


On the Subject of the Many Lengths of Catra's Fur

by avulle



Series: Adora, The Furry [3]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Don't worry, F/F, PWP, Smut, also stupid cracky nonsense, idiots being stupid at each other, it is otherwise entirely porn, it's porn this time, so like, some talking, the original title of this fic was Furry Porn, they're not any less stupid, this time with added sex!, we have brief scritches, you know what you're in for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avulle/pseuds/avulle
Summary: So.Catra has fur everywhere, right?Commonly known, if inexplicably coolly handled, Catra fact.But.Slightly lesser known fact.Catra’s fur isn’t the same length, everywhere.(catradora furry porn, with some stupid nonsense thrown in on the side)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Adora, The Furry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762147
Comments: 41
Kudos: 396





	On the Subject of the Many Lengths of Catra's Fur

**Author's Note:**

> Look, we all knew we’d get here eventually.
> 
> I feel like no one talks about the length Catra's pubic fur enough. Like, it's such an important detail. I also found that I had not put enough thought into Catra's pubic fur. This is my deep and personal apology.  
> To.  
> You know.  
> Catra's pubic fur.  
> It deserved better.

So.

Catra has fur everywhere, right?

Commonly known, if inexplicably coolly handled, Catra fact.

But.

Slightly lesser known fact.

Catra’s fur isn’t the same length, everywhere.

It’s shortest on her face, her hands, her feet.

A bit longer on the rest of her public surfaces, her neck, and her arms and her lower legs, her shoulders.

When you start getting under clothes, it gets a bit longer: her back, her abdomen, her breasts, her butt, the sides of her torso.

It’s longest around her sternum, and also this delightful patch stretching up and down from her waistline.

Long enough you can bury your hand in it, and be completely enveloped.

The deep, luscious, so-good fur around her sternum starts getting thicker below the hollow of her neck, just below her shoulders, and continues down to the space between her breasts, in a beautiful, wonderful triangle of thick, soft brown fur.

Big enough Adora can bury her whole face in it, soft fur all around her and it is just.

The greatest.

So much Catra fur.

So little time.

She can breathe sunshine and rainbows and Catra will set her hands on Adora’s head and knead at her scalp and just.

It so much.

Now, Adora doesn’t want to make it sound like she does not also appreciate Catra’s uhhh.

Waistline fur.

Sure, let’s call it that.

Because she really, really does.

But it’s not as wide as the fur at the top of Catra’s chest.

She can’t really.

Fit her whole head in it.

Roll around a little bit.

Get it all over her.

This is.

This is important.

The whole head experience, very important.

But.

This patch of fur, trailing up from her waistline, is uhh.

Very soft, of course.

Kind of narrow, up to her belly button.

A little longer than her chest hair at her waistline, long and tufty, so Adora can say.

You know, not that she does this on a like, regular basis.

Take some of it in her mouth.

Bite at it.

Pull a little.

(Until Catra makes her stop because she hates it when Adora bites at her fur.)

Not that Adora does that like.

Every day.

But.

It’s kind of like a glacier?

Get it?

No?

…

Whatever it’s Catra’s pubic fur, okay?

Long enough to hide all of her, you know.

Bits.

Spreading out from that little trail at her waistline to cover just all of her, thigh to thigh.

Unless it’s all matted down from say.

A shower.

Or like.

You know.

Other sources of wetness.

Catra had been so embarrassed the first time she had taken off her pants in front of Adora she couldn’t even meet Adora’s eyes.

Like Adora hadn’t seen it before (which come on, they grew up in the Horde).

And also.

Like Adora hadn’t like.

Fantasized.

About shoving her head into that forest of brown and sometimes white fur.

About burying her whole head in it, Catra beneath her and her fur all around her.

Like.

Every single night.

For the entire teenager-hood.

(Adora’s pubic hair is just.)

(Very bristly.)

(Not long.)

(Not soft at all.)

(When she imagined Catra’s pubic fur, her hand on herself, it was just, not the same.)

(Stupid human hairs.)

(Stupid not having fur.)

So you know.

Not the full head experience.

You can’t really.

Roll around.

Also.

Catra doesn’t let Adora just.

Shove her head into her pubic fur.

Any old time.

But.

And Adora cannot focus on this enough.

The amount of roll-around-ing she can do.

And the frequency with which she can do it.

Not the only important fur feature.

You gotta think about the quality of the face in fur time.

And the quality of face in fur time for Catra’s pubic fur is just.

Off the charts.

Incredible.

Adora could really use just.

All of it.

No amount could possibly be enough.

Honestly, Adora had been a little worried that she’d like.

Made it up?

Because it was so perfect?

So wonderful?

So she was like preparing herself to not make a sad face when they were eventually naked together.

And Catra like, only had a little pubic fur, and not like, a whole fucking forest of it.

Because, uhh, Catra would be really sad if Adora made a sad face when they were finally like.

About to have sex.

That would be bad.

(Also, like.)

(To be clear!)

(Adora doesn’t love Catra because she’s a cat girl.)

(Adora would love Catra even if she were human!)

(Like.)

(Almost as much!)

(Like.)

(At least sixty percent as much.)

(Which, Adora would like to say.)

(Way more than she loves anyone else.)

(By a lot!)

But, uh, nope.

Not required.

So much fur.

So much, soft, soft fur.

Adora might have just like, stared open-mouthed, until Catra pulled a blanket over herself as she reddened and was like “I know it’s weird.”

But nooo.

No.

No, Catra, no.

Adora.

Adora definitely.

Definitely definitely.

Made sure that Catra understood in just excruciating detail.

Just how much Adora appreciated Catra’s pubic fur.

(So, you know, now when Catra takes her pants off.)

(She is no longer hesitant.)

(She does her sex smirk, her sex eyes.)

(Looks Adora dead in the eyes, as lets her leg fall open like.)

( _ I know what you want it _ .)

(Which Adora does.)

(Just so, so much.)

Anyways.

You might be thinking.

Adora, what does the world think of Catra’s chest fur.

Her pubic fur.

So long.

So soft.

So head-bury-able.

Yeah, no.

Adora doesn’t want to say, the world will never know, because that’s like.

Weirdly possessive and not okay.

And also everyone in their squad definitely knew?

And was unaffected?

Inexplicably?

They were all like fourteen, and just.

So horny all the time.

But nooo.

They gossip about Rogelio’s muscles.

Lonnie’s muscles.

Or, when they think Adora’s not listening, Adora’s muscles.

(There might have been a theme.)

Never Catra’s fur.

Her long, tufty chest fur.

Her thick, very soft-looking, sometimes white pubic fur.

It’s.

If that’s the right response to Catra’s fur, then please.

Give Adora back the week after she realized the gravity of Catra’s pubic fur for the first time, and had to masturbate in total silence and without moving her feet because Catra was sleeping on her feet.

Also!

Arguably!

Most of the times she has masturbated since then!

That’s not okay!

No.

No.

It’s fine.

It’s fine.

But.

Adora, for once, does not want to share.

She hasn’t told Glimmer and Bow about her girlfriend’s very conveniently placed long-fur.

Head-bury fur.

Also she knows they totally wouldn’t understand.

They’d just be like, why are you so into being able to bury your whole face in your girlfriend’s pubic hair?

Why do you like being able to roll your face around her chest hair, your neck sometimes bumping into her boobs?

No.

It’s fine.

It’s fine.

Anyways.

Why mentioned this now, you ask?

Well.

Like.

Obviously because Catra is just super, super naked right now.

Not sleeping, also not making her sex eyes.

Not just-stepped out of the shower, super wet.

She just kinda hanging out.

Reading.

Naked.

One leg folded up, the other stretched out below her.

Pubic fur not like 100% on display, but like.

Adora can still see it pretty good.

This, for the record, is a very rare.

Very valuable occurrence.

Catra does not like shirts, yes.

But she generally does not like taking off her pants.

Unless she wants to do something with her nakedness.

Under which circumstance, Adora has never seen someone strip their pants faster.

Like, for example.

Did you know that Catra is flexible enough to wrap her hands around her ankles?

So while Adora has to pull her pants down a bit, and then hop and jump around and sometimes fall face first on her bed as she wiggles and pushes them all the rest of the way down.

Catra can just hook her hands in her waistband and just fold herself in half.

Bam.

Pants on the ground.

Sometimes, depending on the angle, naked Catra butt, pointed right Adora.

A bit of that long pubic fur, poking out from between her legs.

Which is.

It’s just really good.

She thinks about it a lot.

Anyways.

Naked Catra.

Laying in their bed.

Reading.

She glances down at Adora.

“Close the door, idiot?”

Adora closes the door.

Catra rolls her eyes.

“Ah yes, I’m going to stare stupidly at my naked girlfriend and leave the door wide open so the whole damn world can see. Great plan.”

In Adora’s defense.

Have you seen Catra?

_ Naked _ Catra?

Like.

Come on.

Adora feels like she has recovered remarkably well from surprise-naked Catra.

Look at her.

Engaging in actions.

Thinking with words.

“Sorry,” Adora says, not really meaning it, as she crosses their room to Catra, shedding easily sheddable clothing as she goes.

Catra watches her come under her datapad, eyebrows itching higher with every lost piece of clothing.

Adora comes to a stop beside the bed.

“Hi Catra,” she says

Catra’s lips twist into a smirk.

“Hey, Adora.” Her eyes flicker down Adora’s bare chest. Get stuck there for a bit. “You think you’re gonna get lucky tonight?”

It’s the afternoon, so Adora’s kind of hoping to get lucky this afternoon.

She’d also like to lucky tonight.

And then like.

In the middle of the night.

And just.

All night long.

Wrap it up with looking at the sun rise over the mess she’s made of Catra’s fur.

But you know.

She’s okay with not.

She’s pretty sure she can swing this into burying her face in Catra’s chest fur.

Wrapping Catra up in her arms.

Feeling all of that fur, against all of her.

So this feels like a win-win-win-win situation.

So she just shrugs, and starts working on her waistband.

Stupid tight pants that are so stupidly hard to take off.

A couple very awkward minutes later, she’s totally naked, and Catra smirk has faded as she stares, slack-jawed at the full expanse of Adora’s nakedness.

(Mostly at Adora’s boobs.)

(Which Adora kinda probably shook a lot while she was struggling with her stupid pants.)

(Catra just.)

(Really, really likes Adora’s boobs.)

Adora smiles.

Brings her shoulders, up, back.

Feels good.

She crawls up on the bed, and Catra’s eyes latch on to her breasts as they sway beneath her.

“I kind of feel like the person waiting naked for me doesn’t get to say that,” she says.

It takes Catra a minute to respond because.

As previously mentioned.

She just.

Really, really likes Adora’s breasts.

But she processes Adora’s words around the time Adora reaches her on the bed, and responds “Psh. I didn’t do this for you.” She finds herself momentarily side tracked on Adora’s breasts for the fourth time in like a minute, now like, less than a foot away from her face.

She could lean forward, take one of them in her mouth.

Give in to your thirst, Adora totally doesn’t think.

Catra does not give in to her thirst.

“Wow, Adora, thinking your girlfriend would just get naked to bone it up with you. What would people say if they knew the Mighty She-Ra could be so entitled?”

She’s pretty sure a lot of people would say.

_ Get some. _

Although maybe like.

Not in those exact words.

“Okay,” Adora says, dropping her hand to the thick fur at the top of Catra’s chest, threading her fingers through it. She smirks a little down at Catra. “We can not.”

Catra takes in a shaky breath, her pupils expanding as her eyes meet Adora’s.

She smooths her hand down the center of Catra’s chest, down to the little tuft of fur above her waistband, back up again.

“Don’t mind me,” Adora says, smoothing her hand back down Catra’s chest. “I’m perfectly happy to just do this, as long as you’ll let me.”

She points her chin at the datapad, hanging loosely in Catra’s hand.

“You can read,” smoothing her hand back up. “I’ll be quiet.”

The thing is.

She’s not even lying.

Catra never lets Adora pet her chest.

She allows belly scritches.

Above her belly button, so Adora can’t even play with her little tufty fur. 

Sometimes, she allows Adora to bury her face in her sternum fur.

Before they sleep, or after sex, or when they wake up.

Or when Adora makes puppy dog eyes.

But nowhere else.

_ If you’re gonna touch my chest Adora, you better be fucking me _ .

Which is just.

Super unfair.

Adora tangles her fingers in Catra tufty sternum fur, and Catra narrows her eyes.

Her ears flatten.

(She’s so cute!)

(Oh my god!)

She’s trying to come up with an appropriately pithy response.

Adora is more than happy to wait.

She smooths her hand between Catra’s breasts, reveling in the feeling of the fur between them, which she’s definitely never had the opportunity to pet before.

(She’s tried, but Catra’s always like “You’re missing my nipple by like half a foot, Adora. Focus.”)

Catra’s chest shivers again, and Adora knows this shiver.

It’s not her excitement shiver, which is accompanied by a little mewling gasp.

Under her breath.

It’s her I’m-holding-back-a-purr shiver.

You-probably-think-you’re-hot-shit-but-I-don’t-purr-so-easy shiver.

Adora scritches this sacred, very valuable, between-Catra’s-breasts fur, and Catra loses the war with her purr, and it comes rolling out of her.

“Don’t get full of yourself,” she follows it up with, trying to keep her eyes from doing the squinting thing.

“Just because I can make my girlfriend purr?” Adora asks, taking her free hand and worming it over to Catra’s ear. “I would never.”

She receives a tail-swat on her naked abdomen for that, and if Catra thinks that’s a punishment of some kind.

She has literally never been more wrong.

Adora works her way down Catra’s ear, reveling in it’s twitch-y swats on her hand, and then scritches it’s base.

“You think you’re such hot shit,” Catra says, still purring, finally letting her eyes close.

Adora lets She-Ra’s magic wash over her, and then smiles.

“I mean, kinda yeah? Have you seen me?”

Catra’s eyes slit open to glare at Adora, but when she sees She-Ra naked before her, she freezes.

It took a lot of work for Adora to be able to transform into a naked She-Ra at a moment’s notice like this.

As a result now every time she transforms she has to be like  _ don’t be naked don’t be naked don’t be naked _ , but man.

For moments like this.

When she can spring naked She-Ra on Catra like this.

Totally worth it.

Catra’s eyes darken, and she lets out purring growl.

Whoops.

There’s the sex eyes.

There’s the sex purr.

Adora was kind of enjoying petting her girlfriend’s chest.

Scritching this just great super thick super deep super soft fur between Catra’s boobs.

Oh well.

Adora pushes herself closer to Catra.

“So does that mean we’re gonna have sex?” She can’t help but tease. “I was totally happy—“

Catra surges forward, and interrupts Adora with her lips on hers, pushing her onto her back.

Adora’s arms slip around Catra’s back, and pulls the full length of Catra against her.

She’s a lot shorter than Adora now, short enough Adora can feel the thickness of her pubic hair over her belly button.

It’s a bit of a problem, because Adora can’t really pull the sneaky thigh trick, but like.

Have you ever seen Catra, when presented with a naked She-Ra?

Eyes wild, tail thrashing, chest heaving, hands desperate?

It is.

It is spectacular.

Totally worth.

Catra’s hands are tight and urgent on Adora’s face, her tongue is hungry in Adora’s mouth, and oh yes.

She spreads her hands down the length Catra’s back.

She’s pretty sure this means she can go for the butt-fur, and indeed, she can.

Catra groans against her mouth, and takes Adora’s lip between her teeth as she pulls away.

Adora groans, and Catra smiles before releasing it.

She looks down at Adora with a proud little smirk on her face, hands spread across Adora’s shoulders.

Adora’s hands are still on Catra’s butt.

Has Adora mentioned how great Catra’s butt is?

Because it is.

So great.

So, so great. 

Very cute.

Very strong.

Adora spent just, way too much time in their trainings back in the Horde staring at it, and she has unsurprisingly found that a.

It feels exactly as good as it looks.

And b.

She had just so dramatically underestimated how good it would feel because of the addition of fur.

Not too long, about as long as her belly fur.

Just the right length, so that Adora can feel it around her fingers, and is it just.

So, so great.

“So,” Adora says, smirking up at Catra, “does this mean I should stay as She-Ra, or…?”

“You’re such a shit,” Catra says, bringing their lips together once more.

Adora takes that as a yes.

Although it is pretty rude!

She’s not feeling super treasured right now.

But then Catra’s scratchy tongue licks its way into her mouth and Adora finds better things to worry about.

Catra’s hands move from Adora’s face to her hair, and Catra says between kisses, “God, your hair,” she digs her fingers into it, cards her fingers down like, a tenth of its ridiculous length, “your stupid fucking hair.”

Hurtful.

Hurtful, hurtful.

Adora consoles herself but slipping one of her hands from Catra’s butt to her thigh, and then into her inner thigh, where her fur starts to get thicker, and Catra groans against her as she keeps running her hands through Adora’s hair.

And also, you know, keeps moving her tongue inside of Adora’s mouth.

That’s very important.

That hasn’t stopped happening.

Adora slides her hand up until her hand is enveloped in Catra’s pubic fur.

Catra shivers against her, teeth catching on Adora’s lips.

Adora, never one to back down from a fight, traces the length of Catra with her fingers.

Catra gives out a full-bodied mewling purr.

Oh, the advantages of being able to turn into a seven-foot tall super woman.

Her arm isn’t quite long enough to do this as Adora.

Catra releases Adora’s lip, and pushes herself just a little bit off of Adora’s chest.

She shivers as Adora dips her into her, and spreads her wetness over the length of her.

She’s careful not to get any of the fur any wetter than necessary.

She wants just as much of it as possible to still be soft and fluffy when she buries her hand in Catra is what will probably be like, a couple of minutes.

Judging from the wetness around her finger.

Maybe less.

Catra pulls one hand from Adora’s ridiculously long She-Ra-hair, and flicks out her claws just.

Right in front of Adora’s face.

Adora groans, and Catra laughs a laugh that’s a little shaky.

“You’re such a freak,” she says.

“Not everything’s a competition,” Adora counters, not stopping her fingers.

“Sounds like—“ Catra interrupts herself with a mewling gasp as Adora swirls a finger around her clit. Catra bares her teeth, sets her claws against Adora’s chest.

“Sounds like loser talk,” Catra says, dragging her claws down Adora’s chest with what is probably enough force to rend metal, but does nothing but leave bright red lines down She-Ra’s skin.

Adora moans as Catra’s claws narrowly miss her nipples, and arches into it.

Catra laughs.

“Such a freak,” she says, her smirk dissolving into a grin, like Adora can’t feel her getting wetter around her fingers.

Adora raises her free hand to the back of Catra’s head as Catra’s claws circle her breast.

“I know I know,” she says, urging Catra’s head back towards her as her fingers circles Catra’s entrance. “I’m a mega freak, kiss me.”

Catra kisses her, hard and dirty with tongue and teeth and her claws on Adora’s breast. 

It is just.

So good.

Catra’s rough tongue tangled with hers, Catra’s teeth on her lips when she pulls back to breathe, her claws on Adora’s breasts, her public fur around Adora’s hand, the slick wetness under her fingers.

She can feel Catra get wetter and wetter as she kisses Adora and drags her claws across Adora’s breasts and—

Gods above.

Is it just the hottest thing.

Adora dips into her again, and Catra grinds down in response, slipping Adora’s finger deeper into her, and Adora can feel it flow through her entire body, her claws digging deeper into Adora’s breast as she cries out against Adora’s lips.

And Adora can feel her shake across every fucking inch of their chests where they’re pressed together, and well.

Signal received.

She pushes all the way, slow, like Catra likes it, until her hand is flush against Catra’s butt, and man.

Is it good to be She-Ra.

Catra cries out again, draws a little blood on Adora’s chest.

Adora groans, and Catra’s tail curls tightly around Adora’s hand as she pulls out.

Adora smiles.

She loves it when Catra is so clear about what she wants.

Adora slips in another finger, and sucks on Catra’s now mostly inert tongue.

Now.

Look.

It’s not a competition.

But if it was.

_ If it was _ .

Adora would totally be winning.

Catra seems to realize this as her body shudders and she forgets how to use words as Adora slowly pushes her fingers in and our of her, nice and slow. She tries hissing Adora’s name against her lips, but interrupts herself with a moaning purr.

Unfortunately, as hot as fingering your girlfriend from behind while she’s on top of you is, Adora’s angle is just horrendous, her fingers are not able to bend in the way she needs unless she’s willing to scrape her fingernails against Catra’s insides (which she’s not) and the only way to reach Catra’s clit is to shove a hand between them, which kind of defeats the point.

(The point of course being all of Catra’s chest pressed against Adora’s.)

(To be clear.)

(If you have not experienced it.)

(You do not understand.)

Catra doesn’t seem to agree on the whole angle problem as she pants against Adora, dragging her claws up so that she can grab hold of Adora’s shoulder to give her the leverage to grind down with Adora’s strokes, smearing the full length of her against Adora.

And.

Wow.

Is having so much fur.

So much fur being rubbed against all of her everything.

So much better than she thought it would be.

Adora is reconsidering her thoughts on her position.

Maybe the angle is salvageable.

Her claws bite deliciously into Adora’s shoulder, and when Adora hesitates, almost out of her, Catra’s tail wraps as tight as it can around her arm, she hisses “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Alright then.

Her purring moans vibrate through Adora’s chest and Adora presses their lips together in messy kisses.

“You feel so good,” Adora says, and Catra moans at the sound of her words. “I love the feel of you around me.”

She’s definitely talking only about her fingers inside of Catra. 

Definitely not the fur that is so soft and so everywhere around her hand.

Catra gets mad when she talks about how great that is during sex.

Catra pants against her lips as her face twists in frustration.

“Fuck,” she says, chest heaving against Adora’s chest, her breath hot against Adora’s lips. “Fucking fuck.”

Alright.

Problem solving time.

Adora is very smart.

Very good at solving problems.

She has.

She has an idea.

“Hey Catra,” she says, her hand slipping from the back of Catra’s head down her back. “I have an idea.”

“Just fucking do it, I’m so fucking close.”

Which, wow.

Rude.

“Spread your legs,” she says against Catra’s lips, and Catra does, letting Adora slip on hand last the other and.

Oh yes.

It is good to be She-Ra.

Catra cries against her lips as her finger’s circle her clit.

“Yes yes yes,” Catra says, her hand tightening in She-Ra’s hair and now using Adora’s head, as well as her shoulder, for leverage.

Adora’s angle remains just the worst, but she’s got enough room to move both of her hands, and it seems to work for Catra, as the frustration in Catra’s face drains away, and her breath starts to hitch just right.

(She starts grinding down so hard against her she has to use her She-Ra strength to keep her hands place, but again.)

(it is good to be She-Ra.)

Her movements become erratic, her torso shaking against Adora’s smushing more of her fur against Adora’s chest and Adora twists her head at a funny angle so she can press their lips together, because Catra likes to be kissed when she comes.

She comes, and Adora swallows down her cries, her claws digging deep into Adora’s shoulders, dragging her entire torso against Adora’s as it rocks through her, rubbing just all of her fur against Adora’s chest as Adora kisses and caresses her through it.

She finally sags, boneless against Adora’s chest, burying her face in Adora’s neck, a purr rumbling from her throat.

Oh.

Oh yes.

Adora thinks she wants to do this again.

Adora slips her hand from inside of Catra and Catra shivers with her whole body, which is.

Very nice.

Ten out of ten.

Would experience again.

Just.

So many times.

All of the times.

Adora slips her fingers that were inside of Catra into her mouth, relishing in the taste of Catra.

One of Catra’s eyes flashes open, and she coughs out a laugh against Adora’s neck.

“Freak,” she says.

Adora takes the other hand she has not yet removed from Catra’s pubic fur (because if she did, there’s a zero percent chance Catra would let her get away with this), and starts to run her fingers through it, making sure not to touch anything that might still be too sensitive.

It’s not a hundred percent thing, but sometimes, after sex, Catra lets Adora pet her pubic fur.

There’s quite a bit of it, and it’s.

So soft.

(Even if it’s generally a little wet.)

Catra shivers again, and the rumbling in her chest grows louder.

The claws digging into Adora’s shoulder snick out.

And then snick back in as Catra starts to knead her shoulder.

Oh yes.

What a great day.

What a spectacular day.

“You’re so great,” Adora says, finishing with the fingers in her mouth, before wiping them on the comforter beside her and placing them on Catra’s back. “I love you so much.”

Catra purrs against her neck.

“I love you, too,” she says.

Yes.

Good day.

Great day.

Adora takes the moment to revel in the feel of all of Catra, presses up against her, the feel of her downy soft pubic fur against her fingers.

Catra’s fingers, kneading at her scalp and her shoulder.

Catra lets her revel it in for about five minutes before she begins to stir, curling her tail around Adora’s wrist and pulling at it, because Catra doesn’t like to use her words.

Adora moves her hand from the paradise of Catra’s pubic fur to the still-paradise-but-not-as-paradise-y-paradise that is Catra’s back and leans forward to whisper in Catra’s ear—

“So, it wasn’t a competition,” she scritches at Catra’s back, gets her to to purr, “but if it had I would have totally won.”

The reaction is immediate, Catra stiffening beneath her, her tail sticking straight out behind her, big and bushy. She shoves herself off of Adora’s chest and glares at Adora.

Adora bursts out in laughter, and Catra repositions her hands to both be on her shoulders.

Her ears quiver.

Her tail continues to be bushy and stick straight back behind her.

She’s.

So, so cute.

“You little shit,” she says.

“I know, I know, but hear me out,” Adora says, still laughing.

She spreads her hands, and beckons to imaginary spectators, and closes her eyes like she’s bathing in their applause.

Catra hisses, and Adora laughs even louder.

Her claws snap out against Adora’s shoulder, and Adora chokes on her own laugh.

“Yeah,” Catra says. “I  _ let _ you win.”

Adora tries to snort, but Catra bears her full weight down on Adora’s abdomen, so Adora can feel her against her skin, and her snort dies in her throat.

A smirk grows across Catra’s lips as she starts to drag her hands down Adora’s chest, but Adora has another idea, so she catches them, pulls them to her lips.

Catra hesitates, her smirk fading a bit as Adora kisses her claws.

“I have an idea,” Adora says.

Catra looks suspicious.

“That’s never a good thing.”

Hurtful!

“I know what’ll make you feel better about your just  _ crushing _ defeat.”

A growl rumbles from the base of Catra’s throat.

Adora opens her lips, and sucks one of Catra’s fingers into her mouth, and the growl dies in Catra’s throat.

“You could sit on my face,” she says, words kind of garbled by Catra’s finger which she is not planning on removing from her mouth.

Catra blinks.

“Nothing says winning like sitting on someone’s face,” she continues, still sucking on one of Catra’s fingers.

Among Catra’s many excellent features is her ability to orgasm just.

So many times.

So, so many times.

Adora’s max in a night is like.

Two.

And the second is a sometimes orgasm.

You gotta work for it, and sometimes all your work is for naught.

But Catra.

Oh, Catra.

Adora smiles around Catra’s finger.

Slowly, a smirk grows on Catra’s face.

Catra  _ loves _ sitting on Adora’s face.

She loves seeing Adora buried under her, digging her claws into Adora’s hair, burying Adora’s entire face in her fur.

Also, like.

Adora doesn’t like to brag.

But uhh.

She-Ra can kinda breathe in space.

So, you know.

There’s that.

But Catra doesn’t like asking for it.

Tickles her issues in all the wrong ways.

“Yeah?” Catra says, tongue flashing out to tease her canine.

“Uh-huh,” Adora says, releasing Catra’s fingers as Catra slowly starts scooting up her body.

“You want me to sit on your face.”

“Uh-huh.”

She’s over Adora’s breasts now, and they have to engage in the awkward dance which is getting her over Adora’s arms.

They work it out.

“Just grind down on you like you’re just a—”

Catra apparently didn’t think through the end of this statement, because she colors and can’t finish it.

Adora looks up at her, brown and white pubic fur in front of her face, long expanse of her toned, furred abdomen, her breasts, her sternum fur, her face, her ears, twitching on either side of her head, and man is it just.

The best view in the whole damn world.

“I live for it.”

Catra’s entire body shivers.

She gives out a little laugh, her smirk dissolves into a giddy smile.

Catra slowly lowers her hands to Adora’s thick mane of She-Ra hair, and licks her lips.

Adora curls her hands around Catra’s thighs.

“Yes yes yes,” Catra is muttering to herself, her hands tight in Adora’s hair as she pulls Adora’s head up as she lowers herself down.

Adora loses patience, and pulls Catra down the rest of the way, burying her head in Catra’s fur and licking a long stripe Catra’s slit.

Catra cries out, and Adora finds one hundred pounds of Catra burying directly down on her face which is just.

Incredible.

Adora face is not quite literally buried in fur, her face a little too long, but she is literally drowning in it, which is like.

Basically as good.

Also, she can look up at Catra (best view in the world) while she shakes and throws her head back as Adora works inside of her, and she puls Adora’s face roughly against her as she grinds desperately against Adora’s face, which is.

Adora is pretty sure this is what heaven feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> Excuse you, you might be thinking. What kind of self-respecting smut writer stops there? Silly answer: suck it losers. Honest answer: I tried to write it but got nothing but hot garbage. Maybe later? The image is too good to pass up, so it might be playing in my mind on fucking repeat. (You know. Maybe.) So like. Some day.


End file.
